


you always tell me that i have to go

by juggyjones (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Era, Marauders, Romance, jily, they don't die at the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-04 23:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/juggyjones
Summary: a collection of instances where james potter falls a little and more in love with lily evans, and the adventures they have together.





	1. platform nine and three-quarters

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i am writing this as a present for my friend's 18th birthday, and it would mean a great deal to me if you could leave some constructive criticism, or at least what you like/don't like about this so i could fix it up before giving it to her. hope you like this, and thanks!

From the moment he first sees her at platform nine and three-quarters, James Potter knows he was going to marry Lily Evans.

            He’s just met a boy—Sirius Black, his name is—and they are standing at the platform, a little further than James’s parents, when he sees her. Red hair and red, puffy face—she’s _so tiny—_ and whatever his new friend has been saying is lost in the moment as he realized she’s red and puffy because she’s _crying_.

            James straightens the glasses on his nose and looks at the boy with shaggy black hair in an entirely different way.

            “Are you listening?” asks Sirius.

            “Of course,” James replies in a hurt tone. He crosses his arms on his chest and it seemes to be enough for Sirius, who continues talking about the supposed moving staircases his cousin Bella told him about.

            In James’s defence, he tries to listen, but his eyes keep wandering to where the redheaded girl has boarded the train. This has been, for James Potter, the happiest day of his life. It feels oddly wrong to see someone crying when they should be happy, and he feels the strong urge to _do something_.

            “. . . in the Forbidden Forest—“

            “Mate,” interjects James, “we better go before we get stuck in a compartment with some whackos.”

            Sirius nods and with a short wave to their families—they’ve already bid their farewells—the two are off onto the train. James walks first, his nose prodding into nearly every compartment, looking for a particular something he hasn’t informed Sirius of. The other boy gives his knowledge of the few students he recognizes from family connections or his cousin’s tales.

            They need to push past several groups of people looking for compartments themselves and one boy, plump and a little disoriented-looking, informs them with a distraught face that there are no empty compartments left.

            “Thanks,” James says. When Sirius asks why James doesn’t follow the plump boy into the compartment he’s just entered, James gives a vague and incoherent response. “Just a little further in the back – yeah, that’s where we’re going.”

            And there she is – a little, curly-haired girl with auburn hair, looking out of the window with puffy cheeks and hands uncomfortably in her lap, in the compartment at the very end of the train.

            James comes to a stop and Sirius nearly knocks him off his feet by accident. It catches the girl’s attention and she looks at them with bright green eyes, blotchy from crying.

            “Mind if we join? There are no empty compartments left,” asks James.

            The girl makes a vague gesture with her hand that James takes as a yes, though it might have as well had been a no. Sirius and he sit opposite of her and James thinks about asking for her name, but she doesn’t seem like a rather chatty girl. His mother taught him that manners are everything in first impressions, and he feels best to leave her to herself.

            With Sirius’s help, he stuffs his suitcase above the seats. The girl makes no sign of acknowledging the commotion and when they sit down, James notices she doesn’t look any better.

            The train takes off and he thinks he sees a tear escape, but she brushes it off with her fingers too swiftly for him to be sure.

            “So, Sirius,” James says, turning to his friend. “What was that you were saying about the Forbidden Forest?”

            Sirius is glad to be asked to spread his knowledge, and James is finally able to listen to him, knowing the redhead’s not crying somewhere alone, or in bad company. He thinks if Sirius keeps talking about Hogwarts, it’d interest her enough to listen in and forget whatever it is that made her upset.

            James listens as Sirius talks. The boy’s black curls swing in sync with his hands and the many tales he speaks of, James finds it a little difficult to believe – there can’t be werewolves, or merpeople, or trolls. Hogwarts is supposed to be a _safe_ place! It must’ve been what the redhead was thinking, too, because James catches her glance over not too many times, with a look that mixes interest with disbelief.

            He was going to let Sirius go on a little while longer and then greet her. Her face is better but he still hasn’t seen her smile, and he has a feeling it would be a life-changing moment.

            Moments after he steals his last quick glance at the girl—she’s looking out the window but James has a feeling she’s listening attentively—a raven-haired boy with hair cut right above his eyes enters, taking a seat by the girl.

            Sirius’s words get lost in the wind. James doesn’t even bother trying to listen.

            “I don’t want to talk to you,” says the girl.

            “... and Malfoy, apparently, but Bella’s not sure ...”

            “Why not?” asks the boy.

            “Tuney h – hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore.”

            “ ... what a bloke, I say! Riding a broom like that! Surely we’re going to be players, I heard ...”

            “So what?”

            “So she’s my sister!”

            “So she’s only a—“ the boy doesn’t finish the sentence. Out of the corner of his eyes, James sees the girl wiping her eyes and her face being few shades redder than before. The boy makes a move as to tuck his hair behind his ears and doesn’t seem to notice it isn’t not long enough for him to be able to do so.

            “ ... buy a broom, aight James, I’ve flown since I was out of my mother’s womb, wouldn’t think you were any different, aight James, can’t ...”

            “But we’re going!” says the boy. He’s loud and James has to try really hard not to look at him; the amount of excitement in his voice is just how James felt prior to meeting the girl. He doesn’t find it particularly appropriate for the boy to show excitement when his friend is crying. “This is it! We’re off to Hogwarts!”

            But the girl nods and smiles.

            “You’d better be in Slytherin.”

            “ _Slytherin?_ ”

            Sirius stops speaking and the two turn to James; the contempt in his voice must’ve been poorly masked. There’s no way this girl would end up in Slytherin – just by looking at her, noticing her curiosity when Sirius was talking about Hogwarts, and how _different_ she is from all the three boys—the aura or freshness, cleverness, something James simply can’t believe all fit into a tiny eleven-year-old—he can tell she wasn’t a Slytherin.

            The hope the other boy had told him _he_ is one.

            Sirius seems a little nervous when James looks at him, frown on his face. Probably because this is an unlikely turn of events, James figures. “Who wants to be in Slytherin?” asks James. “I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

            His friend does not smile. “My whole family have been in Slytherin. I told you.”

            James’s face falls, almost. _No_ , he thinks, _I’m not going to judge him for that_. So, he says, “Blimey.” Fakes a disapproving shake of head. “And I thought you seemed all right!”

            The words do their job and Sirius grins. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

            With a quick—unnoticeable, he hoped—glance at the girl, James lifts an imaginary sword with all the pride he could muster. “ _’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’_ Like my dad.”

            The boy sitting opposite of him makes a small noise. James isn’t particularly surprised to see him smiling with just as much depreciation as he himself feels for Slytherin.

            “Got a problem with that?” Tight words, that’s how they sound. Next to him, Sirius tenses.

            “No,” says the boy. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy—“

            “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjects Sirius.

            Is it so funny? Not really, but the furious embarrassment that makes the boy’s face the colour of the girl’s hair and the fact that he got what he deserved makes James roar with laughter.

            When the girl looks both at Sirius and him with _anger_ in her light eyes, James knows it was a mistake.

            “Come on, Severus,” she says, “let’s find another compartment.”

            Sirius imitates her voice, laughing, and James repeats her words trying to capture the sound of them. She and Severus get to their feet and James, in the heat of the moment _because he was losing her thanks to this twat!_ puts a foot out the slimey boy barely escaped.

            She is out the door.

            “See ya, Snivellus!” calls Sirius.

            The girl—whose name he still doesn’t know—grants James a furious glare, probably thinking it’s him who said it. The compartment door slam shut.

            Sirius yawns and stretches, resting his legs where she previously sat. He shifts over to their side and sprawls across the empty seat, grinning at James. “That lot was a bother. Feels much better as soon as he’s out of here, and his whiny friend—“

            “Don’t call her that,” James says.

            James slumps in his seat and doesn’t talk much for the next few minutes, and his friend knows when it’s better to leave questions for later. Instead, he reads some wizard magazine and James skims through some of the textbooks. About after fifteen minutes they’ve been alone, James begins asking questions about Hogwarts again and everything seems to be back to how it was before the girl.

            Sirius doesn’t call her whiny ever again.


	2. the great hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> james and lily meet in the great hall during breakfast.

“Wake up. Oi, _wake up_!”

            “No, _Mum_. Not yet.”

            “Wake _up_ , you twat!”

            It takes James a moment or two—or a whole lot longer—to open his eyes at last. He snuggles against the pillow, clutching it beneath his chest with one hand and his face with another. The place next to his mouth is a little moist when he rubs his face against the pillow and his feet are a little cold, but his eyes still don’t open.

            They open when he realizes he’s just called Sirius _mum_.

            James opens his left eye first; Sirius is sprawled across his own bed, both arms up in the air. He doesn’t notice James is awake, so James closes his eye.

            He can sleep a couple minutes more.

            The other side of the bed is a little cold when he turns his face, but the pillow is soft and there’s no drool. A little sunshine is leaving orange marks at his closed eyelids but that’s something he’ll need to get used to. Couple more minutes, James thinks, until—

            “ _Lily_.”

            Auburn hair. Green eyes. Tall and slim. Sticks for her friends.

            _Hates him._

            “Sod off,” cusses James. He opens his eyes and sits upright, punching his pillow into its place.

            Sirius is now sitting, grinning widely at James. He receives the glare with a shrug. “C’mon, mate. Don’t get all bad boy already, you’re only eleven. And it’s only seven in the morning. At least wait till noon.”

            Within five minutes, James’s got his uniform on – but doesn’t feel like going. The sun is peering through the windows, the light warming his olive skin and making it look golden. His bed right behind him is unmade, the pillow being the only thing in place; as for the covers, they’re in a bundle where his feet lay. It looks and smells like a four boys’ dormitory room, with messy beds, floor covered in different sets of clothing and he thinks he can smell some of the remaining snacks they stole from the welcoming feast tangled in them.

            He grabs his Transfiguration, Charms and History of Magic textbooks, along with some quills, ink and several sheets of paper and stuffs it all into his bag. James forgets he needs to eat breakfast until one of his roommates, the plump boy from the train, comes into the dorm handling a pack of sweets.

            Girls eat breakfasts too, right?

            “How’s the food?” James asks the plump boy.

            Peter grins; James likes to think he asked this because he’s the nearest person who ate breakfast at the Great Hall.

            “Wouldn’t believe how _amazing_ it is,” says Peter. “It might be even better than yesterday.”

            A snort comes from a bed opposite of James’s – the shaggy-haired, long-legged and a bit weary-looking boy rolls over in his covers, now facing the three boys. “You barely ate yesterday. Excitement’s all washed out now, isn’t it?”

            “Eh.” Peter shrugs and plops down onto his bed. Instead of a uniform, he’s wearing what James assumes to be Muggle-clothing – dark trousers about an inch above his ankles and a brown sweater with some words sewn onto them. His feet are covered by brown socks, but that’s not new for James. Wizards have socks, too.

            James’s never had any clothing that showed more of his skin than it was meant to – as soon as he’d outgrow something, his mum would get him a replacement.

            He wonders if that meant Peter is poor, or just really attached to the trousers.

            “Can I still get breakfast or is it too late?”

            Remus props himself on the elbow, face scrunched in thought. His hair is dirty blonde and _shaggy_ (James’s is messy and untameable, there’s a difference) and it falls a little over his eyes, so he brushes it out of them. “I think we’ve still got time.”

            He’s got Transfiguration first thing after breakfast. From what he’s heard, McGonagall doesn’t take it easy even on the first day and he should definitely eat before he gets nervous.

            And he might see Lily. The thought lingers: _maybe she’ll be nicer today._

            James gets to his feet and drags Sirius out of bed, practically latching onto him to accomplish that. The three of them—Peter remained to get his stuff—find their way to the Great Hall within a reasonable time-frame.

            It looks magnificent even in the morning. There are no candles, but the rising sun is setting on the walls on each side and the whole hall had a golden glow about it. And in the very middle of the Gryffindor table, right where the four sat the night before, sits a girl whose hair looks on fire as a ray of sun finds her.

            He sits next to her. His friends follow.

            “Hi,” James greets. “How are you?”

            Lily raises an eyebrow at him; up close, her eyes have blue and brown freckles in the sea of green. They look like the sea James has once been to, where the water is so clear you can see the green bottom – but it fools you, because it’s deeper than you could dive on breath and it looks like it’s _just there_.

            Someone coughs. James realizes he’s staring, a little too late. “Your timetables.”

            She hands him a stack of papers, one for each of them. He smiles. “Thanks, but we already have them.”

            The smile that grows on her face is the one of amusement, and her cheeks have dimples. “Professor McGonagall gave me these when I arrived here earlier. It’s a Gryffindor tradition to leave fake timetables in the first years’ dorms.”

            “But—”

            “Oi, we’ve been here for twelve hours and we’ve been pranked already?” Sirius chimes in, mouth full. “I say this asks for revenge.”

            Lily’s smile fades and it’s replaced by a scowl. “If you get in trouble and cost us points _on the first day_ , I’m going to kill you myself.” She takes her bag and stands up, resting her hand on its straps. “We have Potions with Slughorn in the dungeons. Do not be late.”

            She walks—no, marches—away with a wave toward the Slytherin tables and waits a little; the boy from the train joins her and they leave before James has time to make a snark remark about it.

            Remus is finishing the pancake at his right. “So, that’s the girl?”

            “That’s the girl,” confirms Sirius.

            “She’s fierce.”

            James’s jaw drops. “She _hates_ me.”

            “Nah, she doesn’t,” says Sirius. “She’s just a little—”

            “Cold,” Remus finishes. He stuffs the last of the pancake into his mouth and gives James a nudge. “She’s nice, though. Saved us the timetables.” The paper swings in front of James’s face and he takes it from Remus to examine it together. “Double Potions, then Transfiguration, free period, Herbology and lunch? Doesn’t sound so bad.”

            Sirius snorts. “My cousin says Slughorn’s a dimwit and McGonagall hates everybody, but I know nothing about the Herbology teacher.” He looks around; most of the hall has emptied by now. “You know, I think two things. One, we should probably go so James’s girlfriend doesn’t kill us and two, James’s girlfriend is going to be the best of pals with McGonagall.”

            They finish their breakfast within minutes and meet Peter at the entrance. He tells them about some kind of ball-rolling that’s some fifth-years with free period are organizing for later that day, and they walk together to the dungeons with smiles on their faces. They inform Peter the timetable was a prank—they feel bad about forgetting about this sooner—and he’s forced to go to Potions without his books. But then they start coming up with ideas on how to get back at whomever pranked them, and James feels like everything is exactly where it needs to be.

            Well, except Lily – but he’s got seven years to change that.


End file.
